


Sex Hex

by Erin_Leigh



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Erotica, Gay Sex, M/M, Memory Magic, Oral Sex, Porn, Smut, Witches, Wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erin_Leigh/pseuds/Erin_Leigh
Summary: I’ve been hired to kill a wizard.I spent maybe two or three weeks trying to find any other way to do this, but my employer had already done his research. Because of their contract with elemental beings, wizards were practically immortal.The only way a wizard could die was if he slept with a witch.I have to kill him with sex.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am keeping this up for posterity but I'm displeased with how this story turned out. Apologies to my readers xxx Maybe I'll come back around to it and do a rewrite.

While most men pursue the arcane arts of wizardry, I’ve always been a fan of the profane craft of witches. Potions and curses suit me much better than fire and ice.

But now, I wish I was anything else. I’d rather be a tanner removing hair from raw hides with urine. I’d even settle for a homeless wretch begging for scraps and sleeping in the cold.

I’ve been hired to kill a wizard.

I spent maybe two or three weeks trying to find any other way to do this, but my employer had already done his research. Because of their contract with elemental beings, wizards were practically immortal.

The only way a wizard could die was if he slept with a witch.

I have to kill him with sex.

I don’t even know if it will work. The texts I found were all very vague. Would the curse take hold if we were both men? Was I going to give my ass away for nothing?

There was no way to know until I tried.

Now, I stand in front of his tower, willing the courage to knock. I could just turn around and leave, but... I need the money, and the dwarf who hired me offered me a lot of money.

My head falls forward and I groan as I stand there, at war with myself. I’ve crafted poisons for crooked politicians. I’ve cursed men and women who jilted their lovers. My hands are far from clean.

This was personal, though. I have to get intimate with him. I couldn’t just look away while someone else did the dirty work.

Well, I hope he’s at least good looking.

I sigh and finally knock. The door opens, and I curse inwardly.

He’s not only good looking, but he’s gorgeous. I can’t even speak as I stare at him, jaw slack. His eyes are a brilliant shade of blue I’ve never seen before. His hair is blonde and curly, just reaching his shoulders. And his skin is fair, highlighting his angular features and rosy red lips.

My face grows hot as he stares at me, expectantly, and I clear my throat. “I’m terribly sorry to trouble you, but my cart broke down, and this is the first place I’ve come across...”

My boots are caked with mud to make the lie convincing.

He smiles, a flash of white, and steps to the side. “I understand. Please, come in. We’ve got to get you warm.”

Gorgeous and charming. Perfect.

I hate myself already.

I bow my head in gratitude and step inside, taking a cursory look around. The tower is large, with three stories up and a staircase leading down below the earth.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” I say with what I hope is a kind smile.

“Think nothing of it.” He strides over to a door on the left wall, swinging it open. “Please, wash off and change into something more comfortable.”

I go into the room, a small bathroom with a high window to let a little natural light in. Robes hang from small hooks on the walls. I assume he means for me to use one, so I strip out of my clothes and slip one of the robes over my head. It smells of cedarwood and cinnamon.

When I come back out, he smiles. “Perfect.” He then takes my old clothes from me and drops them in a basket.

A wastebasket.

I blink, startled. “Excuse me?”

He smiles. “They’re filthy. Surely you don’t want them back?”

“But...” I frown, then give a small shrug.

I can just grab them on my way out after I kill him.

I follow him up the stairs and down a hallway, into a large room with two beds. A roaring fireplace dominates the room, crackling with light blue flames that cast everything in a calm, soothing glow.

Well. There’s a bed, and honestly, the sooner I get this over with, the better.

“I can’t thank you enough.” I smile, tilting my chin in toward my chest to look at him as seductively. It’s difficult to feel sexy when I’m actively thinking about his death. “Is there any way I can repay you?”

His brow raises with interest. “I certainly won’t say no to a little gratitude.”

I take a quick breath in. All right, Riqi, you can do this. Even if it doesn’t work, you still get to sleep with a really handsome man. If it does, you’re rich. Those are pretty good odds, so stop feeling so bad about it.

“Well,” I say as I take a step toward him. “You could start by taking off your robe.”

He chuckles. “Gladly.” He lifts the dark cloth over his head to reveal well-muscled arms, a broad chest, and taut abdominal muscles.

It’s like I’m staring at a statue of a god.

Fuck, was this why someone wanted him dead? He was too gorgeous? Because right now, I’ll believe that.

I don’t know what to do except drop to my knees in worship and put my hands on his trousers. I slowly pull them down, almost afraid to see what the manhood of such a perfect man looks like.

It’s as large as I expected, and I close my eyes to try to control my arousal.

I hate how much I’m going to enjoy this.

Leaning forward, when my lips touch the tip, I part them just enough to slide them around him. The head is hot and heavy in my mouth, and I massage the curve of it with my tongue.

I try to go as deep as I can, but I’m not exactly well-versed in this, and I’m honestly a little concerned that my mouth can’t open wide enough.

My chest hurts. I’m not a mercenary or a contracted killer. I’m not a whore. None of my life prepared me for this. I’m just a dumb witch who lost his mind over some stupid gold coins.

I hadn’t thought about the consequences.

Before I can stop them, tears well up and fall down my cheeks. As soon as one drips onto his leg, he pulls away and looks down.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

I can’t talk. I push myself away from him and turn around, dragging my hands over my face.

My thoughts are racing too fast to keep track of.

All I know is I need to get away from him, which is the last thing I want to do.

I breathe in and say as I exhale, “I’m leaving.”

The pain is worse now. It’s not just guilt trying to squeeze my heart, but regret and longing.

“What—” he starts, but I bolt for the stairs.

I regret everything. I take solace in the fact that when I get home, I can concoct a memory potion to forget all about this.

To forget all about him and his beautiful, perfect face.

As I’m halfway down the last set of stairs, my feet stop working. Not just my feet—my whole body.

I’m paralyzed.

And then the wizard is in front of me, magic pouring from his raised hand.

“You little fool,” he says, a dark look in his eyes. “Did you really think you could escape?”

My fingers twitch, but it feels like invisible hands are holding me in place, preventing me from moving. I can only watch as he raises his other hand, a ball of purple energy growing.

“Sleep,” he whispers, and my vision fades to black.


	2. Chapter 2

I wake up with a start to find myself chained to a stone floor, naked and cold.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

I look up to see the wizard standing over me, his expression unreadable. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have happy thoughts going on, though.

“What do you want with me?” I ask, not bothering to struggle against the chains. “I’m nobody. I have nothing. Please, just let me go home.”

He laughs without any joy in the sound. “I don’t think you realize the situation you’re in, boy.” His head cocks to the side. “You’ve been hired to assassinate me.”

“Y-Yes,” I stammer. “But I changed my mind!”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

My stomach turns at the low growl in his voice. “Yes, I swear!”

“While I appreciate your change of heart, I’m afraid I can’t let you go that easily.” He crouches down to my level, one hand caressing my cheek before he grabs my ear and yanks me closer. “Not when you are my only weakness. If I want to live, you have to die.”

I can’t even argue with him. If the situation was reversed, I’d feel the same. It only made sense to dispose of the tool that could spell your demise.

I close my eyes and wait for death.

But it doesn’t come.

I crack one eye open when the wizard’s hand slides down to my chin, lifting my face as if inspecting livestock.

“I’m willing to make a deal with you,” he says.

My heart leaps into my throat. “What?”

He releases my chin and stands up. “I’ll give you two options. If you can get out of these chains, then you may leave.”

I test the metal with a small tug of my right arm. Yeah, not going to happen. Not without magical assistance, and unfortunately, I couldn’t just conjure magic out of thin air.

“What’s the other option?” I ask.

“I cast a memory charm on you, and you forget everything.” He gives a smile that somehow conveys no emotion whatsoever. “Including the fact that you are a witch.”

I stare at him with wide eyes. Forget I was a witch?

There’s nothing except the sound of my heart pounding and blood rushing to my ears. Fight or flight kicks in, and I struggle against the chains like a wild animal.

I didn’t know how to live as a regular, ordinary human. Was death really worse than that?

My throat tightens and I have to stop fighting so I can catch my breath. Every gasp for air burns, but I try again. And again.

The only thing I succeed at is injuring myself as the metal bites into my wrists and ankles.

Finally, I slump back down against the ground, head bowed. “I want to live,” I whisper. “Do what you must.”

“I always get what I want,” he says, and I look up to see a cruel smile twisting his lips. Then, he raises a hand.

I nearly stumble forward, my head aching as if it might explode.

Where am I?

The room around me seems familiar, but at the same time, I don’t recognize it. There is a roaring fireplace that illuminates the room in soft blue hues, and a bed I’m pretty sure isn’t mine.

“What happened?” I ask the room.

A voice behind me replies, “Your cart broke down.”

I turn around to see a man so gorgeous that I must be dreaming. My lips part, but no sound comes out.

He smiles and continues, “You don’t remember? You showed up at my door.” His hand gestures at me. “You’re wearing one of my robes.”

One quick glance down confirms that I am wearing the same robe as him.

“Did I already thank you for your hospitality?” I ask, feeling extraordinarily tired.

His brow arches. “No, but you may do so now if you wish.”

I feel an undeniable urge to show my gratitude on my knees, but something stops me. Something in the back of my mind screams that I can’t.

He’s off-limits. I don’t know why, but it’s the only thing I do know for sure.

I smile a bit sadly and simply say, “Thank you.”

“You may sleep in this room. You seem like you could use the rest.” He smiles and leaves without another word, the door clicking shut behind him.

I start to slip out of the robe and the smell of cedarwood and cinnamon overwhelms my senses. This is his robe… it had touched his skin.

My knees go weak and I drop down to sit on the edge of the bed. I feel like I’ve touched his skin before, too. There’s a hazy memory, or maybe just a fantasy, of trying to fit him in my mouth.

Quickly, I throw the robe across the room and hurry under the covers. I lie perfectly still, eyes clenched shut, praying for my growing erection to stop and go back down.

Why can’t I shake this feeling of his fingers in my hair, or his lips on mine? I don’t think I have such a vivid imagination.

I moan without meaning to, the sound much louder than I imagined it could be. I freeze, and there is a soft chuckle from the other side of the door.

“Everything all right in there?” he asks, his voice lower than before. “Thought I heard something.”

I bury myself deeper under the covers, grateful he can’t see. “Nope, yep, everything’s fine. Just, uh, a hiccup.”

There’s a pause before he says, “All right. Good night.”

I let out a shaky breath. Okay, erection, you’ve got to go. I take myself in hand and try to jerk off as quickly as I can, desperate for this problem to go away, a soft moan rising up from my chest.

And then I hear that chuckle again.

Ah, fuck.

I hadn’t waited for him to actually walk away from the door.

He heard. He knows.

I try to think of what lie I could tell, but before I can, the blankets are pulled away and the fireplace roars to life.

He stands over me, his expression hidden by dancing shadows.

I’m lying prone, exposed, my hand itching to move.

The fire crackles, and I catch a glimpse of a smile on his face.

“I can help with that.” He sits on the edge of the bed, and whispers something too quiet for me to hear.

I want this.

I’m afraid.

I’m desperate.

I’m confused.

I’m everything at once, and all I can do is watch.

His fingertips glide slowly down my inner thigh as his lips find mine, and I shiver. 

My mind swirls with a combination of fear and desire, and he seems to sense this. He pulls back and looks into my eyes, one hand now wrapped around his length.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks.

I don’t answer, too mesmerized by the sight of him jerking himself off.

He leans back in, kissing my neck. “Do you want me to continue?”

I manage to move my head in the faintest nod and he chuckles.

“I thought so.” He runs his tongue from the base of my throat to the tip of my chin, then leans back.

Every nerve within me is tingling with desperation, but I can’t tell exactly for what. For more? For him to stop?

His hand wraps around the base of my member, his touch soft and his palm warm. 

He shifts forward and ghosts his lips over the shell of my ear. “I want to see you fall apart under my touch.”

As he speaks, his other hand moves around my waist and slides down, and a finger gently prods at my entrance. Before I can react, he slides it inside. My mouth falls open and the sound that I make is a little too high-pitched for me to recognize as my own voice.

My hands find their way into his hair and I try to pull his lips to mine, but he doesn’t give me the satisfaction. Instead, he keeps his head firmly pressed cheek-to-cheek, his breath hot as it puffs over my skin.

“Patience,” he says as he adds a second finger. “In good time.”

I try to rock against him, to push myself into the tight circle his hand make and further onto his fingers. I can’t even find the strength to speak. My speech is reduced to tiny moans, whimpers, and other little breathy sounds of need.

Every movement of his hand along my length is like the pull of a violin’s bow, pulling higher and higher notes of pleasure from deep within me. His thumb rubs against the tip as he tightens his grip around the flared head.

My mind is hazy as he continues. The tension builds, and I’m not sure how much longer I can last. His pace quickens, and it’s not long before the coil of pleasure within me is sprung free.

I let out a long, drawn-out moan as I shudder and release over his hand.

“Good boy,” he whispers, leaning in and kissing me on the cheek as he withdraws.

My body is exhausted, and my mind is content. I manage to crack open an eye to see him lean over me, his smile tight-lipped as he looks down at me.

“Good night, my dear.”


	3. Chapter 3

When I wake up mid-afternoon, it’s to the sound of running water.

I struggle against the weight of a heavy quilt. I don’t remember it, but the more I stare at the multi-colored squares, the more familiar they appear.

The water cuts off, and I look up to see a man—the wizard, I remind myself—walking into the room. He pauses when our eyes meet, and the corners of his mouth tick up.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he teases, and the sound of his voice makes my heart flutter.

I’m not sure if I’m reacting to feelings that seem to be buried in my chest, or because he’s currently stark naked.

I hesitate and try to find a place to put my eyes. I end up glancing between his face, the wall, his groin, the floor. But then my eyes disobediently flick to his groin again. They follow the thatch of dark hair that trails down his stomach.

I blink, and he’s in front of me, one knee on the edge of the bed. I look up to see conflict playing across his face.

“What is it about you?” he whispers. He trails his fingertips over my cheek, and I lean into the touch. “I can’t seem to satisfy either of us, no matter how I try.”

I don’t understand, and I don’t care. I lean back and look up at him, my emotions open and raw. I want anything he can give me. I want everything.

“Please…” I can’t remember his name. In the haze of the moment, I whisper, “Master.”

The word hangs in the silence for a moment, and then he lets out a shuddering sigh. “Well, that’s new.” He leans in and takes my mouth with his, hard and demanding.

I melt against him as he pushes me back down onto the bed. When I move my legs to wrap around his waist, however, he puts a hand on my thigh to stop me.

“No,” he says, a hint of sadness in his voice. “None of that.”

There is a throb of pain in my chest and, slowly, I lower my legs back down. He doesn’t want me in that way?

He makes a soft sound as he sees the tears that I can’t fight back. “Please don’t cry.”

“Am I doing something wrong?” I ask. “Do you not want me?”

“Of course I do,” he says. “But I…” He stands up and turns his back to me. “We can’t. Not in that way.”

There’s a long silence, and I feel the distance between us like a physical wound. I have never known want or desire like I do now. I feel as though I have suffered this ache for so long, longer than I can remember.

Then he speaks, slowly and carefully. “I need to leave. There are… some things that I need to take care of. Then, I will come back for you.”

He turns around, now wearing his familiar brown robes. A pack is slung over his shoulder.

“Give me time to fix this,” he says as he leans in and kisses my forehead.

Then, he’s gone before I can even blink. I look out the window to see the sun hanging low on the horizon. Is it setting, or rising? I’m not sure.

I take a deep breath, hold it, and let it out. There has to be a reason for his sudden departure, and I choose to believe it is a good one.

He would be back.

I sit on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, trying to calm myself down. The maelstrom within me is a war between desire and despair.

Why do I feel like this? I don’t even know his name. I’m not sure I know anything about him, actually.

And yet, the thought that he is gone and not knowing when he’ll return… he may as well have ripped my heart from my chest and taken me with him.

This is absurd. I force myself to stand and move about the tower, putting things in their proper places.

It’s like my mind is stuck in that hazy dream state where things that shouldn’t make sense, do. I know things I shouldn’t know. Like that this vase doesn’t go here, or that the kitchen is running low on cardamom spice. Or that cardamom is his favorite.

Have I always struggled with my memory? Does an amnesiac know that they have amnesia?

I’m not sure time had much meaning to me to begin with, but it lost any bit of it without him around. I’m not sure how many days go by, because some of them are spent lying in bed and moping.

But I refuse to give up. He is the only constant in my life. At least… I think so.

I hope so.

Then, one night, I’m startled awake by a shift of weight on the bed. I look up to see my beloved wizard sitting there. His eyes are tired, but he smiles.

“I’m home,” he says.

I stare at him for a moment in disbelief before throwing my arms around him and sobbing into his shoulder. “I thought you wouldn’t come back!”

He wraps an arm loosely around me, then pulls me in close to his chest. “I told you I would.”

I hesitate, then lean back to look into his eyes. “Did you take care of what you needed to?”

His gaze darts away from mine. “Yes, but not quite in the way I’d intended.”

“What do you mean?”

“I…” He sighs. “I tried to find a cure, or a spell, or anything that would protect me from you.”

I recoil, pulling my hands against my chest and moving back so that none of me touches him. “From me? What do you mean, from me?”

The weight of his guilt is palpable in the air. “You were hired to kill me.”

“Kill you!” I laugh, though not from amusement. It’s more of a pitchy, startled laughter. “How is that even possible? You’re a wizard!”

“Yes,” he says. “And you’re a witch. Only a witch can kill a wizard, by absorbing his energy through…”

My eyes go wide as I remember, like an old light flickering to life.

“Through sex,” I say, the tension leaving my muscles all at once.

“I read every tome in every archive. Consulted every expert I could find.” He runs a hand through his hair, which has grown messy and unkempt. “There was only one thing that could be done.”

I reach out to trace the lines at the corners of his eyes. “What?”

He stands up and looks away. “I surrendered my contract.”

I stare at him for a moment, trying to wrap my mind around what he’s saying. I find that, quite simply, I can’t.

“Are you insane?” I ask when I finally find my voice again. “You would do that for someone you barely know?”

He shakes his head slowly. “I know you very well. It’s been five years, Riqi.”

“No,” I say with little confidence. “That can’t be right. How can I not remember years of my life?” Then, I groan as I cover my face with both hands and mutter, “Memory spell.”

“I thought it was necessary.” His hands gently pull mine away from my face. “I tried everything I could think of. I was cruel to you, but you wore me down. So I tried again. I tried again and again, but every time, you still wanted more than I could give you.”

His eyes flicker across my face, and he sighs. “And I wanted to give it to you each time. This was the only way.”

I’m speechless.

The way he looks at me is so sweet, so loving. I’ve seen these eyes before. I know these eyes.

“I was scared,” he continues. “The longer this went on, the more difficult it got. Your love grew stronger each time. I feared that your pain would grow in the same way until I lost you. I was terrified I would come home today and find you gone.”

He leans in closer, searching my face before he raises a hand to stroke my cheek with just his fingertips.

“But you’re still here,” he says simply. “Thank you.”

He kisses me softly, sweetly. All the while, my mind races.

Everything makes sense, now. It’s like my mind has been underwater, struggling against the pull of the deep, running out of air. And now I’d pushed my way past the surface, and suddenly I could breathe. I could see the sky, the land.

“What happens now?” I ask when we pull apart.

He smiles and shrugs. “We start over. For the last time.”

I shift uncomfortably on the bed. “Does that mean you’re going to erase my memory again?”

He shakes his head. “No. This is the beginning. If it’s going to work, you have to make your own decision now. I’ve… done enough.”

“Isn’t it obvious what my decision is?” I place my hand over his, then curl my fingers around it. “I want this. You and me. For real, this time.”

A smile breaks across his solemn expression and he lifts my hand holding his to his lips. He kisses the knuckles first, then the wrist. Then he pulls me to him and hugs me tight with both arms around my shoulders and middle. He holds me there for a moment, then pulls back to look into my eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers.

I don’t have the words to express my love for him. I don’t remember the years of falling for him over and over again, but my heart does. It has always remembered, and it has never wanted anything else.

Words aren’t enough, I decide. I lean into him, pushing him down onto the bed.

“I want to show you,” I say softly.

He smiles, and there’s a longing in that smile, a quiet aching need that’s been with him for years.

I feel the same need, a desire within me that can’t be stopped this time. I wouldn’t stop it even if I could. Nothing was going to get in the way from finally, finally being with this man.

“I need you,” I whisper to him.

I slide down his body until I’m sitting back on my knees with him lying prone before me. I give him one more smile before I disappear underneath his robe.

The feel of warm skin on my lips on his skin as I kiss the curve of his ankle is one I know well, and the excitement of finally being allowed to do this is enough to drive my senses wild.

I don’t fight it. My heart has wanted this for so long.

But I also don’t want to rush this, not when I know he’s endured years of wanting what neither of us could have.

I take my time removing the loose linen trousers he wears under his robe, kissing every inch of skin exposed until they were off and promptly discarded. I move back up to his member as hard as my own and gently kiss the tip before taking it in my mouth. Once the crown is past my lips, I let my tongue explore where the little flared ridge dips right in the middle, then press against the slit to taste his excitement.

He moans softly, and I can feel the vibrations running through his body. I move my hand to massage his testicles, and he lets out a pleased sigh. But as much as I could do this forever, I know now it’s all I’ve done for years.

I want more.

I give one more hard suck before I let him slip from my mouth. I crawl forward, pushing the robe up until I can straddle his thighs with our erections pressed together. One roll of my hips has the both of us moaning with pleasure.

He slides a hand down my back, and he gives my buttock a firm squeeze before his fingers begin prodding at my entrance. I bite my lip and moan as he slides one finger into me, then two.

I continue to grind against him as he prepares me. My body trembles with excitement when he adds a third. As he thrusts up to rock against me, I lean down and kiss him, hard and hungry and full of trembling need.

It’s enough to motivate him to move faster, and before long he’s scissoring his fingers with quick, desperate movements.

I have never needed anything more in my life.

“Are you ready?” he asks, and his voice cracks with tender emotion.

I growl, firmly but fondly. I can’t imagine how I could possibly be any more ready.

He gives a breathless chuckle and lines himself up. I feel the blunt press of the head, and I can’t wait for him to work his way inside. As I pull away from him to sit upright, I force myself down the entire length of him, my ass flush against his groin while sparks flutter behind my eyelids.

For a moment, there’s nothing but bliss. I’m not sure what to name the colors that dance before my eyes, but as I lift myself up and drop back down, they shift around and grow brighter.

Years of longing, years of pining, years of hitting the same wall over and over again. The dam has burst, and I don’t know what to do with all of these memories and feelings.

I lean forward and kiss him, and the sparks return along with a wave of static across my skin. My soul feels as if it’s going to melt out of my body and into his. I can feel his love, stronger and deeper than anything I’ve ever known.

I’m drowning in emotion, mine and his, and it’s all just too much.

I start to cry, but he seems to understand why. Perhaps because he feels the same way.

He wraps his arms tightly around me and holds me against his chest as his thrusts get more forceful, more desperate. I bury my face against the curve of his shoulder as tears roll down my cheeks. The feelings he’s arousing in me are almost painful in their intensity.

“I love you,” he says, again and again. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

I echo his words back to him until we reach the climax together. The force of our orgasms is overwhelming, and I can feel our souls intermingling as we cry out each other’s names.

I can feel him within me, can feel myself within him. We are one.

We stay like that for a long moment, and then I slowly come back to reality. “That was…”

“Magical,” he whispers.

I can’t help it. I laugh. The irony of his statement is not lost on me.

“Magical?” I say between laughs. “Really? That’s the word you’re going with?”

He chuckles. “Well, what would you call it, then? I don’t have the words to describe it.”

I just keep laughing and shake my head. “No. I don’t, either.”

My laughter cuts short as a horrible thought dawns on me.

Slowly, I look up at him. His brow arches when he sees my face, and I ask, “What is your name?”

His nose scrunches up and he grins. “Ah, that’s right. You always forget.”

I blink. “I knew it?”

“Yes. I’ve told you many times before.” He chuckles, kissing my forehead. “Halen.”

As soon as I hear it, I know that I’ve always known it.

Halen.

The memory of each and every time I’d said his name before washes over me, and I lower my head back to his chest.

No more memory wipes. No more lonely nights.

We were finally together, once and for all.

**Author's Note:**

> ❤️ Thank you for reading! Every kudo means the world to me.  
> 💬 Want to connect? [I'm on Discord!](https://discord.gg/yK8Q9dDY7r)  
> 📚 Are you a Kindle Unlimited subscriber? [I have ebooks!](https://amazon.com/author/erin-leigh)


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